


Zayn Malik's Home for Wayward Popstars

by whatwasthatharry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Just Zayn being there for his boys really, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 01:54:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3632244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatwasthatharry/pseuds/whatwasthatharry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by this post on Tumblr: So I’m not saying someone should write the fic where all the boys start randomly showing up at Zayn’s house now whenever they need to get away and it becomes their unofficial headquarters, but if someone were to write it it should probably be titled Zayn Malik’s Home for Wayward Popstars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zayn Malik's Home for Wayward Popstars

**Author's Note:**

> original idea from ridiculouslittleidiots on tumblr. the idea wouldn't leave me alone after reading her textpost, and this was actually really cathartic to write out so i hope it's cathartic to read. enjoy!

Everything is a bit weird after Zayn finally does it – after he’s officially left the band and gone home. There’s no Louis to pull in when he has a joke to tell, no Liam to pour his heart out to and make silly faces, no Niall to worry about as a protective older brother, and no Harry to lay next to him, curled in his arms as he slowly spouts off his newest idea about the universe. 

There’s no boys to pull into a group hug when he needs it, and it’s all a bit strange, really. Maybe because Zayn keeps reaching for them.

He rubs his bus 1 tattoo every time he thinks of something he wants to tell Louis. 

He calls his sisters when he starts feeling protective and there’s no Niall to mother.

He writes when he has something to tell Liam.

He presses a hand to his chest over his heart every time he thinks about Harry and reminds himself Harry isn’t gone at all.

None of them are, because Zayn’s phone is now constantly littered with texts from all of his boys. And he sees more then they probably think he does; just because he’s not there doesn’t mean he’s completely off the grid. He sees the ridiculous two ponytails Harry has been wearing, a blurry picture popping up on his phone. He’s not quite sure why someone sent it to him, but it makes him smile a little all the same.

He still has his boys, so even though they’re not there with him, they’re there.

* * *

It doesn’t take long before his boys actually start being there physically. Somehow his house always seems to have one of them bopping through the door with a smile on their face, hugging him quickly, before dropping their bag and announcing they’ll be staying for x amount of days. 

* * *

It’s Harry who shows up first. And Zayn should be surprised, but he really isn’t.

It’s only five days after their show in Dubai, and Zayn hears an incessant knocking on his back door. At least they know to avoid the front, Zayn thinks as he moves down the stairs to answer it. There’s still always at least one or two paparazzi outside his front door.

When he pulls it open, his eyes widen to see the one and only Harry Styles on his doorstep, a black bag in his hand and his hair pulled back into a bun. There’s a tired smile in his face and he simply shrugs, looking at Zayn like he holds the secrets to the universe.

“C’mon then,” Zayn says, turning to the side to let Harry slip past him and into the house. Zayn’s not sure how he avoided the paparazzi even though he came in the back, but Harry, for as noticed as he often is, has always been good at slipping by them when he wants to.

Zayn closes the back door and finds Harry in the living room, sprawled out across the couch with his shoes kicked off and his eyes closed, hands intertwined on his stomach as he breathes slowly.

“Can’t sleep at your own place, Haz?” Zayn says with an eyebrow raised, but there’s nothing behind it. Harry can sleep here for as long as he wants.

Harry smiles a little and holds a hand out, eyes still closed. “Missed you,” he mumbles, and Zayn can’t argue with that. He’s missed Harry something fierce, too.

Zayn takes the offered hand and slides onto the couch with him. Harry wastes no time in turning over onto his side so Zayn is pressed up against his back, and Zayn’s arms immediately wind their way around his stomach.

“Always the little spoon,” he chuckles, kissing the back of Harry’s neck and Harry simply burrows in further against his arms.

Harry stays quiet for a while, but Zayn doesn’t push him. This is Harry, sometimes. Loud, outgoing Harry who seeks attention at times and loves to talk to new people. Sometimes that Harry needs a break from it all and needs the quiet, and Zayn gets it. His arms have always been that quiet place that Harry seeks out when he needs it. So Zayn doesn’t ask why he’s here, how long he’s staying, none of it. He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against Harry’s shoulder, breathing in the quiet with him.

“I didn’t realize how hard it’d be without you,” Harry whispers almost an hour later. Zayn thought he’d fallen asleep.

He feels guilt twist in his gut, and somehow Harry must know because he’s turning in his arms and resting his forehead against his, green eyes wide and apologetic as he stares at him.

“Don’t feel guilty,” he says, manages a smile enough to deepen one of his dimples, a hand coming up to rest on Zayn’s cheek. “I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty. You know we all support you leaving. But some days it’s just hard without you.”

Zayn nods in understanding. Some days it’s hard without his boys, too.

“We got in a fight,” Harry admits, a bit sheepishly.

Zayn makes a noise in the back of his throat. This isn’t what he wants. He wants them to be solid and a unit and the brothers they all are, not fighting.

“We’re fine now, it was stupid and over nothing,” Harry sighs, somehow managing – even though he’s bigger – to maneuver their bodies so Zayn is underneath him and his head is resting on Zayn’s chest. “I think we were all a bit too stressed, though. It was too much, and I nearly cried on stage a few times.”

Zayn’s hand finds its way into Harry’s curls, carding fingers through the long hair before scratching at his scalp. He smiles at the way Harry immediately pushes into the touch, practically purring like a cat.

“We’ll be okay, though. All of us,” Harry mumbles, and he sounds even more tired then before. There’s a constant yawn in his voice as he speaks. “Just a bit too much at first. Why I came here. It’s break and I want to see my family but I just needed to get away from everything. And what better place to get away to then with the boy who understands why I had to.”

“I get it, Haz,” Zayn promises, leaning down to press a kiss to Harry’s forehead. His free hand goes to Harry’s cheek, brushing away the small tear that slid down his cheek that Harry doesn’t seem to be aware of.

“I’ve missed you too, you know?” Zayn whispers, warming at the sight of a small smile working itself across Harry’s mouth.

“Good,” Harry says, and then they’re quiet again.

Harry stays for a week, moving about the house with Zayn but never once leaving it. Zayn doesn’t press and Harry doesn’t say much, but at night when they’re curled around each other, because Harry can’t sleep alone as he admits the first night he’s there, they just rest in the quiet together.

Zayn becomes Harry’s quiet place, the place for him to take a rest from the loudness of the world outside his doors. 

* * *

Louis shows up a week after Harry leaves, not even bothering to knock before storming through the back door

“Zayn Malik!” he shouts, and Zayn nearly drops the cup of tea he’s drinking onto the kitchen floor.

Before the shock has worn off and he can think of something to say, Louis is standing there in front of him with a wide smile on his face. There’s something a bit mischievous dancing in his blue eyes and there’s a red beanie hiding the mess that has been his hair lately, but fuck it’s good to see him. He manages to put his tea on the counter, spilling some in his haste, and rushes at Louis, wrapping himself around him.

Louis laughs and pats his back, but then his arms are around Zayn’s waist just as tight and they’re holding each other like there’s nothing else in the world that could possibly matter more than this moment.

“Fuck, I missed you, Tommo,” Zayn whispers into his ear, laughing softly but it’s a little choked.

Louis hums but doesn’t say anything else, pulling away from Zayn to look him up and down. His hands rest on Zayn’s shoulders.

“You good?” he asks.

And Zayn knows what he’s really asking. He’s asking if Zayn is okay now, if the stress is okay, if he’s handling things better. He’s asking if Zayn’s happy because he’d been the one with Zayn at the beginning of the tour. They’d been the ones going out together or hanging at the pool together, and there were times that Zayn slipped and told Louis what was running through his head. So this is Louis making sure that Zayn’s okay, because he saw up close just how okay he wasn’t.

The other boys noticed too, but this was Louis. His partner in crime.

“Yeah, Lou. I’m good,” Zayn says with a small nod. Louis stares at him for a moment, but he must find something because then he’s nodding and moving over to the couch, collapsing onto it and patting the spot next to him for Zayn to sit.

“Haz said he was here last week,” Louis begins. Zayn hasn’t come in yet, going to the kitchen instead to grab his tea and make a cup for Louis.

Zayn shrugs even though Louis can’t see it. He knows Louis isn’t actually looking for Zayn to confirm it.

“Said it helped.”

Zayn pauses where he’s making the tea, tilting his head to the side as he tries to figure out why Louis’ voice sounds like that. He doesn’t even know how to describe it, it’s just…there’s something off in his tone, something diminished, and Zayn doesn’t like it.

Louis doesn’t say anything else. Even when Zayn joins him on the couch and gives him a cup of tea. Even when Zayn tugs at his beanie a little. Even when Zayn wraps his arm around his shoulder and pulls him close. Louis stays silent.

But it’s Louis, and while Harry can be fidgety, Louis never stays still. So it’s not even ten minutes later before Louis is shaking his head and kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

“So, what are we doing today?” Louis says, and Zayn narrows his eyes a little.

“Louis – “ he starts, but Louis cuts him off with a shake of his head.

“Don’t, Z. I’m good,” he says.

Zayn stares at him for a moment, trying to read his face but there’s nothing secret hiding there. He’s not sure what exactly Harry meant when he said it helped to be here or why that seems to matter to Louis, but he’ll take any of his boys being around for any reason.

So Zayn just stands up, puts on a stupid movie, and sits back down next to Louis, where they’ll kick each other jokingly and talk throughout the entire thing and then restart it to watch what they missed (and they’ll miss it again as they talk too).

Louis stays for a week just like Harry, but it’s different. Louis doesn’t need the quiet; he just needs the freedom of being himself without anyone pressuring him. Zayn gets it halfway through the week, that that’s why Louis is here. He smiles a little at the thought, that _he’s_ the place his boys are coming to to get away. 

* * *

It’s only two days after Louis has left before there’s a knock on his door. The back door. And the only ones who have been smart enough to use that door have been his boys. The paps aren’t hiding outside his house that much anymore, but he knows that some still lurk at times.

Zayn’s not surprised when he sees Liam standing there, a bag in his hand and looking a bit out of place, like he doesn’t know exactly why he’s there but he needs to be there all the same.

Just like with Harry (and Louis, although Louis had just barged in), Zayn doesn’t say anything and steps to the side to let him in.  Liam smiles a little in thanks and drops his bag next to the couch, fingers twitching a little at his sides.

“Everything okay, Li?” Zayn asks, stepping forward and covering his hand with his own.

Zayn thinks he gets it now, thought about it a lot after Louis left. He talks to his boys all the time, phone calls, texts, e-mails, everything. They’re still in each others lives so this isn’t necessarily about missing him, per se, or wanting to get back in touch. No, Zayn’s place has become a sort of getaway. And Zayn doesn’t mind it at all.

“I can’t write,” Liam admits quickly, hanging his head like he’s ashamed of the fact.

And Liam’s the first one to actually admit that he’s here because he’s having a problem. Harry and Louis had danced around it while simultaneously making it clear that they needed Zayn at that moment.

Zayn kind of loves him even more for it. Because they always joke about Harry being the most sensitive, the softest of the boys with the heart poured open for the world to see. But Liam’s heart is out there too, not for the whole world necessarily in the way everyone _thinks_ Harry’s is, but it’s always out there to the boys. Liam never really shy’s away from telling them what’s wrong, more often then not he actually physically can’t hide it.

Which means it’s not really a surprise that Liam is the first one to be completely honest about why he’s actually here.

“Talked to Louis about it?” Zayn asks, knowing that typically those two are the ones writing together.

“A little, yeah. He said ‘you should talk to, Zayn.’ So here I am,” Liam says, laughing a little as he shrugs his shoulders a bit helplessly. Zayn thinks he looks a bit like a lost puppy.

Zayn’s not sure what he’s supposed to do, because when he thinks about it, he didn’t actually _do_ anything for Harry and Louis. He was just _there._ That seemed to work for them, so Zayn decides not to put much thought into this either. Liam is here and Zayn wants to help, even if helping is actually doing nothing but providing a space away from everything.

“C’mon,” Zayn mumbles, and drags Liam through his house and to his graffiti room, depositing Liam on the couch as he goes to grab some of his paint.

Liam laughs a little, and Zayn glances behind him to see his shoulders shaking and his head in his hands. “So I’m just going to watch you graffiti your walls even more?” he asks, looking up at Zayn with a confused face, but one that says he’s willing to just go with it.

“You always liked to watch when I was backstage doing it,” Zayn comments, winking at Liam playfully.

Liam just shrugs and leans back on the couch, looking content to stay there like Zayn wants.

They don’t say much while they’re in that room, just a few comments here and there or Liam commenting on how sick one of his drawings is as he flips through the sketchbook in there as well. And when Liam disappears only to reappear with his own notebook and pencil in hand, Zayn doesn’t remark on it except to smile a little as he continues working on his latest version of batman.

Liam doesn’t stay as long, only for three days. But Zayn sees him off with a notebook full of ideas and a kiss on his cheek. 

* * *

Niall shows up ten days before the boys are slated to start their next leg of the tour in Cardiff. Zayn’s still not sure how they all actually have the time to keep showing up, because he knows what they’re supposed to be doing during the two month break and it’s not just hanging around and showing up at his house whenever they feel like it. But Zayn doesn’t question it, because somehow they’re all managing it and Zayn wants them there just as much as they want to be there.

“Zaynie!” Niall says as Zayn opens the door, and Zayn rolls his eyes fondly at his teasing. He quickly pulls Niall into his arms, hugging him tight before letting him inside.

“I’m hurt, Niall. The other lads have been here already,” he teases, a bit of a smirk in his voice and Niall sticks his tongue out at him.

Niall’s fidgety, but not like Liam. Liam just didn’t quite know what to say, often doesn’t but tries to get things across anyway even if it doesn’t come out exactly right. But Niall is different; he looks like he’s constantly walking around with his fingers twitching or his body jerking, not quite knowing what to do.

Zayn doesn’t like it, because even though Niall was never one to sit still or not crack a joke, him looking lost (even if he’s trying to hide it behind his smile) doesn’t sit right with Zayn. Niall really is like his little brother and he still wants to protect him from the world.

Like he did with Liam, Zayn wraps his hand around Niall’s wrist and pulls him through his house. But instead of going to his graffiti room, Zayn takes Niall to a smaller room, sitting him down on the couch and placing a guitar in his lap. A bit of relief flashes across Niall’s face, and he immediately starts plucking at the strings.

“Think we’re all a bit keyed up about the first show back,” Niall admits as he plays random songs on the guitar, the gentle strumming soothing the fidgeting and distracting him a bit as he talks.

Zayn just lays on the couch across from him, eyes closed as he let’s Niall talk and play.

“Gonna be weird without you, always is,” Niall admits.

A flash of guilt shoots through Zayn, but he immediately tamps it down. It happens every once in a while, the guilt of leaving the band, but then the other four boys yell at him to shut up and stop thinking that anytime he voices it to them, so he doesn’t let it get to him as much anymore.

“We’re just nervous, yeah?” Niall continues. He sounds unsure, like he’s not sure exactly what he wants to say but that he has to say _something._ “Pressure kind of feels a bit much from everyone, and we have the fifth album we have to do. Harry kept fidgeting the other day when he had a meeting, like he didn’t know what to do about anything.”

Zayn has a flash of worry for Harry, because of course Harry is going to be like that. Harry who is actually rather guarded with his heart and doesn’t know what to do in situations, but just tries to stumble through them the best he can and find his way.

“We’ll be okay though,” Niall says, but it sounds like a question.

“Yeah, Nialler. You’ll be okay. Amazing even. You’re going to smash it,” Zayn says, a smile in his voice and he opens his eyes to see Niall looking at him with a soft smile back – a genuine one that says what he really needs and why he’s really here is to just have that assurance from Zayn, because Zayn was always the one assuring Niall it would be okay whenever he grew quiet.

They get drunk a little while later, and Niall laughs and Zayn smiles, knowing that he’ll be okay.

Niall only stays two days, Zayn knows they have rehearsals coming up, and Zayn holds him close before he leaves, reassuring him one last time that even though One Direction doesn’t have five members anymore, they’re still going to kill it. 

* * *

It’s not even two days later that Niall is back in his house, this time with Louis, Liam, and Harry by his side as well. They all look like lost puppies searching for a home when Zayn opens the door in the dead of night to see them standing there, and Zayn, as always, lets his boys in without a second thought.

“Missed you,” they all murmur at separate times through the two days they stay there, leaving at times for work but always coming back to Zayn’s. Harry stays in bed with him at night, seeking that quiet and place to just be and not think. Liam locks himself in Zayn’s graffiti room and writes while Niall is found plucking the guitar at all times throughout the house. Louis’ moves from room to room, not sitting still but always being near one of the boys.

They don’t talk about it – don’t need to talk about it, really. They all get it, and Zayn understands it the most. They need a place a way from everything, a place with zero stress and zero demands, and even if Zayn’s not in the band anymore he’s still part of the band and the boys rely on him.

It keeps happening throughout the tour, too. Harry shows up randomly when they’re supposed to be in the States. And Zayn knows they barely have enough of a break for Harry to even be able to spend the time flying over here, but he doesn’t say anything. The bags under Harry’s eyes and the way his lips shake a little and he sniffles tells Zayn everything he needs to know.

Louis shows up randomly when they have a longer stretch, voice loud and filling the silence as they laugh over stupid stuff. Sometimes they just sit outside in the back smoking, sometimes they’re getting drunk in the house, and other times they’re just watching a stupid movie and arguing about which characters is better.

Liam comes when he needs help writing, but he also comes when he just needs a break because the stress is too much at that time, and being the ‘daddy’ of the group and watching out for the other boys can really take it’s toll. So Zayn just sits and paints while Liam writes, and they occupy the space and silence together and it’s enough.

Niall is always fidgeting when he shows up, and he’s not like the other boys. He’s not as weighed down as Harry is or as stressed as Liam or as wanting for freedom as Louis is. But he’s a little lost and he just needs that older brother to tell him it’s okay, he understands, and place a guitar in his hands and let him not think while he tries to talk everything out at the same time.

By the end of the tour, they’ve all shown up numerous times, sometimes alone, sometimes in pairs, and sometimes all four of them. They don’t even knock anymore, each of them with their own key to come in whenever they want.

They never tell him when they’re coming really, just show up and sometimes Zayn isn’t even there, but his house is and his space is and the quiet is, and he knows they need that as much as they need him.

The first night after the tour, the four of them are there. Niall is sitting in front of the television with a guitar in his hands, and Louis is next to him spouting off different songs for him to play as they laugh.

Liam is on the couch in the graffiti room, but instead of writing he’s trying to do what Zayn does and Zayn laughs softly at how concentrated he looks while drawing a disfigured batman.

Harry is in the bed, curled under the covers and just breathing slowly as he stares at the ceiling. The lights are off and it’s just quiet in the dark room, but he still looks over to smile at Zayn when he comes into the room.

“Honey, we’re home,” he teases, voice soft and a little lost still. Zayn knows that Harry feels worn thin, that all the boys do too, but Harry just a little more so.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Zayn murmurs when he climbs into the bed.

And when he wakes up with a crick in his neck because somehow Louis, Liam, and Niall had managed to somehow squeeze onto the bed in the middle of the night as well, Zayn finds he doesn’t really care.

**Author's Note:**

> don't worry, zayn is always there for his boys. you can find me on [tumblr](http://www.whatwasthatharry.tumblr.com) if you'd like. let me know your thoughts :)


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